Unconsciously Coupling
by Caprica Janeway
Summary: A story that follows Sharon and Andy along nine stages of an unintended journey into coupledom. Creating a perception amongst their peers, and forming conclusions for themselves.
1. Sharing

**Note:** "Unconsciously Coupling" is the reverse of the now infamous "Conscious Uncoupling" phrase uttered by Gwyneth Paltrow. In her case it was about choosing divorce, in Sharon and Andy's case it's about accidentally choosing each other.

**Setting:** Chapters 1-7 take place during the hiatus between season 3 and season 3.5, and Chapters 8 and 9 take place after the season final "Special Master". I will be trying to post a new chapter every couple of days as time allows me to do the final edits.

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Chapter One: Sharing \- _"The One With The Hat"_  


"Sharon, whose cap is this?"

Rusty decided to help tidy up the lounge room and had noticed a worn out looking baseball cap caught underneath one of the pillows.

"Hmm?" Sharon asked from the floor as she organised a stack of magazines.

"This baseball cap, did Ricky leave it here when he came to pick up his tickets?"

Sharon pushed herself off the ground and wandered over to inspect the hat Rusty was holding. He turned the cap in his hand and she noticed the familiar Dodgers logo stare back at her. Unconsciously she started to smile. Rusty eyed her curiously and sensing her unintentional smirk she quickly returned her face to a passive, examining stare as she took the hat and looked it over.

"So do you want me to mail it to Ricky? I remember him saying it might be difficult to come back for another visit before Christmas."

"Hmm, no I'll take it," she replied.

"Are you sure? I mean it's no trouble. The post office is on my way to the library anyway, and he's only going to worry if it's missing-"

"Rusty there's no need, I borrowed it and I'll return it."

"Ok then, but you know how particular he can be about his things - the man alphabetises the cereal," Rusty replied, now in the kitchen opening a cupboard so she could witness the offending habit.

Sharon left the cap on the table and walked over to the kitchen to inspect her oldest son's handy work. She turned her head to one side and read over the names of each box and pursed her lips together as her eyes went wide with delight.

"Your son has some serious issues,"

"Oh really? And the other cupboard, the one with the spice rack?"

Rusty furrowed his eyebrows and sighed under his breath as he opened the next cupboard and sheepishly looked at its contents.

"The spice rack, the one place where alphabetic order is not only appropriate but vital, and you've arranged my spices in what order Mr Beck?"

He was trying not to indulge her but he should have known that any attempt to point out someone else's folly in front of Sharon would guarantee exposure of his own. So he tipped his head slightly and offered a slight grin.

"I've ordered your spice rack in a manner which benefits the household,"

"Oh?"

"Spices in the front are spices Rusty likes and can handle. Spices in the back are spices that should not be consumed for reasons of taste and safety."

"I see. I guess you could say we all have our little unique habits don't you think? Something we each do that may be a little peculiar at first glance but is uniquely our own?"

"I suppose, but if you are so willing to indulge us all in our little quirks then you might want to be quick about returning that hat to its rightful owner."

"Oh don't you worry, I'll return it," Sharon began, returning to the table picking up the hat and gently placing it on her head.

"...though it is rather comfortable, and I do think it looks good on me. What do you think Rusty?" She asked, holding her hand on the rim of the cap and another to her hip as she turned around modelling it for him.

"Sure, cute even." He replied, secretly amused at her antics but not willing to let her know.

"Cute? I don't think baseball players are supposed to be cute. No, if anything I look a little flustered in the batting cage," she replied, carefully placing the cap on the hat stand.

"Batting cage? Since when do you even like baseball?," he asked, trying to think of when she had mentioned going to a batting cage.

"I used to take the kids to the batting cages all the time Rusty. Maybe we should go one weekend?"

"Eh, I'll think about it," he replied.

"Well goodnight Rusty, and please don't go into the fridge and do to my vegetables what you did to the spice rack. Despite what you may believe, they are all safe and ready for consumption."

"Ha ha, goodnight Sharon," he watched her wander down the hallway and after taking a peak to see that she was out of sight he quietly opened the refrigerator. His endeavours were cut short when the phone rang and broke his concentration. Moving quickly he picked up the phone on the second ring.

"Raydor residence, Rusty speaking,"

"Oh hey Rusty it's me Lieutenant Flynn. Is Sharon there at all?"

"You just missed her. Is there something I can do for you?" He asked.

"Umm maybe. I was just looking for something and I wasn't sure if I lent it to Sharon or not," Andy replied.

Rusty looked around the room wondering what Sharon could possibly have of Flynn's. Apart from Ricky's hat, and the stack of magazines she had sitting here - which she said she was getting rid of, he couldn't see anything that wasn't hers or his.

"What should I be looking for?" he asked.

He heard Flynn sigh down the phone and take a quick breath. Rusty wasn't sure if he was agitated or unsure of himself.

"It's stupid really. I mean if she has it, then that's fine. I just don't know where it is,"

It was Rusty's turn to sigh, "so what should I be looking for then?"

"A cap, a blue baseball cap," he replied.

"Seriously?"

"What? I like my cap, I've had it for years,"

"Alright, alright describe it to me," Rusty asked walking over to the hat stand to examine the cap Sharon had left there.

"Well it's blue with a white Dodgers logo - you know the baseball team?"

Rusty tapped his fingers against the phone, "I have watched TV before you know? I know who they are."

"Yeah sorry, ok well it's also a little frayed at the rim,"

Rusty examined the cap carefully. Running his fingers across the logo and the worn stitching on the left side, he took a deep breath and rolled his eyes as he placed it back on the stand. It wasn't the only hat on the stand, and when he looked closely he noted it wasn't the only baseball cap on the stand either.

_Maybe Sharon was a secret klepto_, he thought for a brief moment, then dismissed that idea just as quickly. Whatever was happening it was peculiar, and with nothing else going on at the moment, keeping Lieutenant Flynn on the go seemed like a good way to spend his time.

"Hmm, I can't see anything like that here. You know I can't even think of a time where I've seen her wear a hat," he honestly couldn't, despite the evidence in front of him on the hat stand.

Rusty thought he could hear Flynn smile down the phone. Though he wasn't sure how you could actually hear that sort of thing.

"If she's out in the sun too long the freckles on her nose decide to make an appearance, and she hates it when anyone points it out. I let her wear my hat because she kept forgetting hers, and she didn't want me to tease her again."

"I see," Rusty began to remember a few entires in her calendar from the last month. _What did she call them?_ He seemed to remember some strange listing called 'Maybe Saturdays'. _Was she secretly running off to have fun? Sharon? Enjoying the sun? With people? With Flynn?_

"Listen if you see it laying around can you let me know? At my age you start to worry about forgetting things,"

"At your age I'm surprised you remember your name," it came out of his mouth before Sharon's voice in his head would have told him no. Though he secretly thought Provenza's voice in his head would say yes.

"Always a comedian hey Rusty?" Andy replied, secretly wishing Rusty had spent more time at the office with Amy than his partner.

"Always, any way don't spend too long looking for it Flynn it's approaching 10pm and I think that's well past your bed time,"

"Goodnight Rusty," he said with a noticeable, yet amused sigh.

"Goodnight Flynn," Rusty hung up the phone and took another look at the cap.

_Unique habits; things that are a little peculiar,_ she'd mentioned. I guess borrowing someone else's cap when you have a collection of your own could be defined as peculiar.

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To Be Continued...

_Also a Special Thanks to my super favourite fellow writer and all round awesome person Isolith for her ongoing encouragement :)_


	2. Thoughtfulness

_I got inspired by 'Friends' the other day and now all the chapters have sub-titles as well. They are a little silly but give you more of a clue to not just the theme of the chapter, but it's content as well. _

_Once again, thank you for all the lovely reviews and follows. I hope you enjoy the next chapter :)_

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Chapter Two: Thoughtfulness \- _"The One With The Two Idiots"_

Sharon Raydor was the quintessential team player, and when someone in her division had an idea to share, she was more than willing to listen. So when Amy came into her office one afternoon and suggested the annual team barbecue be held at her cousin's beach house, she was more than willing to move the location.

After all, it started as a fairly awkward affair at the local park the first year, until Tao took pity on her and moved it to his house in the second. So now Amy thought she should take the chance to show her appreciation, and see how the team would enjoy a day at the beach.

"Flynn why do you have three different types of suncream? The days when you should be worried about the sun giving you wrinkles are long over. You're in the shade, what do you need this junk for?"

Andy stood in the backyard with Provenza, trying to be helpful at the barbecue, but finding himself distracted reading out the ingredients on the suncream bottles. He was also getting tired of the ongoing jokes from Provenza and Rusty about his age. The nerve of Provenza of all people making jokes about age when he was practically prehistoric. Andy put the creams down and moved towards his partner.

"Did you ever consider that maybe I was thinking about someone else in the team, maybe someone forgot their hat, maybe there are people with extra sensitive skin needs that need the extra coverage."

"Well after I'm done cooking these I'm going inside. Whoever they are can wear my damn hat — unless it's Tao, his head is huge and I don't want the damn thing stretched."

"How very generous of you," Andy replied, turning back to the table and picking up one of the creams. "Say should I be worried about the levels of _oxy_, oxy-benzone and _octocry_, octrocrylene in these creams?"

Provenza's shoulders slumped and he pointed his tongs at Andy.

"If those things didn't have long complicated names that only Phd's could pronounce then they wouldn't work. Now will you _please_ pay attention to what I'm doing, and pass me the plate."

* * *

"Sharon are you sure we need this many containers?" Rusty asked seemingly completely unaware of how many Tupperware containers Sharon had filled the car with.

"Yes Rusty. It's best to keep all the ingredients separated so when I put together the salad it will be crispy and fresh. You can't have a salad with sloppy lettuce." She replied as she pulled out a blue cap from her bag.

"I'm more interested in Lieutenant Provenza's new hamburger recipe than your salads Sharon," he replied as he shuffled a few containers from one arm to the next.

While he organised himself he noticed her adjusting her hat in the side mirror, _that hat_. She seemed all too pleased with herself as she arranged her hair in the perfect position. Who was she kidding letting him think it was Ricky's hat when she knew quite clearly it belonged to Lieutenant Flynn.

_What was she gaining keeping up that charade?_ He thought. Whatever her motive he wanted to be there when Flynn saw her wearing the thing just so he could have the opportunity to roll his eyes in the most dramatic fashion possible.

Eight containers, _who needs eight containers of salad ingredients?_ He was simply not convinced that anyone would be that health conscious at a barbecue of all places. Making his way through the house he encountered Buzz who was just as confused as he was with the copious amounts of containers he was carrying.

"Here let me take a few of these," he said as he took some of the containers off Rusty and ushered him towards the kitchen. Sharon had fallen behind him at some point, possibly distracted by Amy and her overly friendly cousin Michael, who for some reason seemed eager to talk to anyone about the architectural details of the house.

As Buzz placed the containers on the bench his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to take a peak inside. By the time he got to the third container his head piked up and he was grinning as if he was in on a private joke.

"What?" Rusty asked.

"Oh nothing," he replied looking over at Flynn and Provenza standing over the barbecue. "…it's just good to see that Lieutenant Flynn will finally have another option apart from the potato salad."

"What are you talking about? Doesn't he like burgers?" Rusty asked, slightly horrified at the concept, and wondering why he never picked up on the Lieutenant's eating preference before.

"Not unless they are vegetarian, something Lieutenant Provenza is never too keen on cooking."

"Hmm, vegetarian? I never would have guessed, but then I guess I don't pay much attention to his eating habits."

"Whose eating habits?" Sharon asked coming up behind them with the last of the containers.

"Lieutenant Flynn. Apparently he's a vegetarian, but I guess you knew that already," Rusty replied, checking out the other containers Sharon brought with her - all very much free of meat.

* * *

"Flynn, why haven't you buttered the hamburger buns yet? Do you expect us all to eat these with knives and forks?" he asked picking up a hamburger patty with a pair of tongs and swinging it about dramatically.

"I'm still cutting the onions. What do you want from me? My eyes are burning. Can't you get someone else to do it?!"

Provenza rolled his eyes and noticed Rusty hanging around the TV so he yelled out to him, and the kid joined them outside.

"Lieutenants," he greeted them both.

Provenza waved at him with his tongs and Andy just looked up at him squinting in an effort to stop the effect of the onions.

"Flynn, has Provenza made you cry again?"

"What? No!" Andy replied, annoyed and a little tired. Even in the shade he was still finding the heat from the sun a little draining.

"I will make him cry if he doesn't hurry up with those onions. Hey Rusty how about you help the slacker out and start buttering those hamburger buns over there." Provenza suggested.

"Sure," he replied, looking between the two lieutenants.

"So," Andy began. "Is Sharon here too? or did she just drop you off as part of our babysitting duties."

"Babysitting? I'm eighteen," Rusty replied pulling the buns out of the bag.

"Oh don't worry about him Rusty, he's just jealous because he's old. He's spent the good part of the morning trying to slow the inevitable ageing process, when he should have been helping me."

"Oh I have not! I just want to make sure I brought the right suncream. Sharon always forgets her hat, and I can't find my hat to lend her and—"

"Oh God, that's what's been bothering you all morning? I give up, Rusty are you any good at flipping burgers?" he asked.

"Ah sure, I guess," he replied looking back and forth between the two men.

"Good, here you go Chef Beck enjoy your new role, I'll be inside looking for whatever Sykes classifies as a drink."

Provenza passed Rusty the tongs and picked up a random suncream bottle from the table and stomped his way inside.

"Speaking of that hat…" Rusty began.

"Oh good Lord!" they heard Lieutenant Provenza yelling from inside.

Abandoning the food, Rusty and Andy went inside to see what the issue was. Hearing them run behind him, Provenza turned around and pointed in the direction of their Captain.

"Oh _Flynn_…I think I found your hat," Provenza uttered.

Picking up the familiar tone made by the oldest member of the team, Sykes was quick to her feet and passed the exasperated Lieutenant a frozen margarita.

He took a sip of the drink and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he saw a confused Captain Raydor standing in front of him complete with Flynn's hat on top of her head.

He looked behind him at Rusty who seemed to be mimicking the same expression as his mother, along with his own brand of teenage awkwardness. Looking at Flynn however, he didn't see a man annoyed at discovering someone had his precious hat — the idiot was actually smiling at her.

Smiling at his boss, _stupidly smiling_ he should add.

Looking between his idiot friend, and his commanding officer, he felt an old tick begin to resurface, and in their expressions a conclusion began to form. 

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To Be Continued...


	3. Attention To Detail

_Thank you again for all the lovely reviews, favourites, and follows. Much appreciated! I've released this one a little later than I intended so hopefully I'll get the next one out quite soon. Enjoy!_

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Chapter Three: Attention to detail \- _"The One With The Wardrobe Suggestions"_

It was 10am, a time when the day is at it's most resolute.

Preparation is complete and tasks are assigned. It's that time when we know what has to be done, we just need a little encouragement to usher it on.

But Sharon was distracted, and her eyes remained fixed on the outfits hanging over the chair opposite her. _Blue and white, maybe black? There's always red? Or maybe she could go completely different and choose green - but then what would Rusty wear?_ She thought.

At one point in her musings she heard her door knock, then open. She waved her hand in a motion for the person to enter but still remained glued to the clothing on her chair.

Andy looked over at the chair she was looking at, then back at her. _White and Blue_, he thought. _They rarely clash with anything and accentuate the red and gold tones in her hair_, but he left that thought where it was and returned to his reason for coming here in the first place.

"Ah Sharon," he said, trying to get her attention.

"Tea?" she asked, looking over the rim of her glasses, accepting the cup Andy passed to her.

"It felt like it was time," he replied, nodding his head to one side and walking back to her door.

She lifted the cup slightly in his direction and gave him a curt smile.

"It was. Thank you Andy," she replied, and he casually saluted as was his habit and left.

The tea was welcome, the company was better. A familiarity was forming over 10am cups of tea, collected mail, and simple questions like 'did you see what that idiot said on the news last night?'. It's the little things friends remember to do and say, the little things that form the lattice of a relationship.

And as a detective it was the little things that always caught her eye.  
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* * *

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An hour had past since Andy had arrived with tea, and she felt like wandering. Standing up from her seat and moving to the other side of her desk she watched him through the blinds, cautious not to be seen.

She noticed on his desk three manuals and one book leaning precariously against his monitor. The angle at which they leant was so exaggerated that it kept making her lean forward trying to guess when they would finally topple and knock Andy's coffee cup clear across the keyboard.

He, however, was focused ever so diligently on the screen in front of him.

It was Alice again.

Having recently wrapped up a case the night before, the morning was predictably quiet. While his partner exchanged a few quipping remarks with Mike, and Amy laughed with Julio about whatever he was viewing on YouTube, Andy was going over missing person files.

He was looking for patterns amongst faces - down one rabbit hole, only to find another. Once he started it was hard to shake his concentration. His diligence to the job often found him neglecting other vital tasks such as eating, sleeping, and of course, acknowledging the presence of concerned co-workers.

Sharon watched the leaning books again, and her eyes widened as she detected the hint of movement. Frantically, she scanned her eyes around the office, and spotting the solution, she grabbed a bookend from her shelf and made her way promptly to his desk.

He was so consumed with his task that he didn't even look up.

As stealthily as she could, she moved his coffee mug and then righted the books against his monitor with the bookend. It looked ok, but she was still concerned about the coffee mug so she picked it up and tried looking for a better place to put it.

"Coffee?" He asked, looking briefly at the mug in her hand before returning to his screen.

She smiled down at the mug in her hand. What little was in the cup had quite clearly gone cold, but more to the point she wondered how long he knew she was standing there, and if he even noticed that she fixed his books.

"It felt like it was time — join me?" She replied.

At first she wasn't sure if he heard her. His gaze had left her as quickly as it had arrived, and he was busy pressing the enter key like a furious woodpecker. Then without warning, he let out a sigh.

"Sure," he replied.

Looking down at his desk he suddenly noticed the appearance of the bookend. He stared at it trying to figure out where he'd seen it before.

"Your books were about to topple over," she answered for him. "...consider it a loaner till I get your hat back to you."

"My hat? No, you keep it. I can get another one." He replied, getting up and walking to her office.

Sharon tried to hide her puzzlement at his sudden disappearance, but she wasn't sure what he was up to. In much the same way as the books she had rescued, she too leant precariously to one side, and almost completely toppled over his desk as she tried to see just what he was doing.

"Andy I can't keep it, there's history in that hat - it's your favourite." She replied, righting herself on his desk, she noticed he was walking out of her office carrying her coffee mug.

"Fine, we'll share it then." Passing the mug to her.

"You can't share a hat." She said as she slid off the edge of his desk.

"Sure you can. Technically it's mine, it just lives on your head. Like if I owned a fancy painting but wanted to display it in a museum."

Sharon was contemplating the comparison. She stared at his goofy expression for a moment and waited for him to explain further, but he didn't.

"So you're comparing me to a museum?"

"Ah..."

"And do you have any other suggested displays I should exhibit?" Moving in closer and poking his chest with her forefinger.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he replied with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Her eyes widened suddenly, she didn't get the chance to answer, and was once again forever thankful to Mike who passed her his cell phone giving her a brand new case to solve.

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* * *

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Witnesses had been interviewed, leads were followed, and now they had hit the early evening they were left in the precarious position of waiting on blood work. There wasn't much else that could be achieved at this point, so Sharon was quick to encourage her team to go home so they could start the day fresh in the morning.

Andy had noticed she had been checking her watch since 5pm. It had taken a few subtle remarks and the appearance of Rusty outside her office in his best clothes, but he had managed to put two and two together.

Sharon's parents were in town for a couple of days, and this evening would be their first time meeting Rusty. They were originally going to have dinner at Sharon's place, but with the case they landed Sharon thought a nice restaurant might take the stress out of cooking.

Despite her intentions to keep the evening simple, Sharon seemed to be in a flutter about the whole affair. She began double-checking Rusty's clothing, looking for fluff and stray hairs, and much to his annoyance rearranging his hair. Andy being the last of the team still lingering behind found the whole event amusing.

"Sharon?" He asked her from behind, as she smoothed down Rusty's collar.

She turned around quickly, surprise evident on her face that he was still there.

"Can I help you with anything?" He asked.

She looked back to Rusty who seemed to be standing up straighter, as if bracing himself for inspection.

"Um, ah I don't think so. Umm Rusty, can you please fetch me a jacket from my office?"

"Sure," he replied, eager to be done with her inspection.

"The blue one," Andy mentioned as Sharon turned back to acknowledge him.

She smiled to herself and walked the extra step over to him.

"The blue one?" She asked.

"You did ask for suggestions today, and you're wearing a white dress. I've noticed you tend to favour your blue jacket when you wear that dress."

"You've noticed?" Sharon asked, smiling in thank you to Rusty as he approached her with the jacket.

"I'm a detective. Noticing is part of the gig." He replied.

Andy relieved Rusty of the jacket and held it open for her. She raised an eyebrow at him, still wondering why he hadn't gone home with the others, but pleased for the company.

"Helping to refurbish the museum?" she asked with that half smile of hers.

Andy's arms slumped and he lowered the jacket.

"My metaphors could use some improvement," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, you could say that," she replied, lifting his arms so she could get into the jacket.

She moved one arm at a time carefully moving into each sleeve, and he in turn lifted and smoothed down the shoulders. They were so focused on making the manoeuvre so effortless, that he forgot to lift her hair, and it remained trapped underneath the jacket.

He smiled to himself at his error and noticed Sharon had stopped moving completely. As he was directly behind her she hesitated to fix her hair just in case she accidentally moved it herself and flicked him in the face with it.

Thankfully it wasn't long before Andy took the initiative.

He moved slowly and gently slipped two fingers under her hair on either side, carefully coercing the hair from its confines. His need to be careful made him slow, and his fingers were not too keen on letting go. They lingered on the skin just enough to reflect a certain sweet kind of curiosity, but without being inappropriate. This however, had the follow on effect of causing a sprinkling of goosebumps across Sharon's skin. They made their way along the border of where her hairline met bare skin, and she was thankful that the thick mane of hair quickly fell and covered the unexpected reaction.

"Thank you Andy," she said, turning to him quicker than expected.

"Any time," he replied, quieter than he intended.

It was not quiet enough to go unnoticed. Rusty, who assumed at this point his existence had been forgotten, cleared his throat gaining Sharon and Andy's attention once more. They both looked over at Rusty in one synchronous movement, and it was only his well trained self control that held him back from grinning at their mirrored expressions.

_Two as one_, he thought.

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To Be Continued...


	4. Anticipating Needs

_Thanks again for all your lovely feedback. It's always good to know what people pick up on, and enjoy in the story. As it's the weekend, I've managed to get another chapter ready for release. This one is for every Andy out there who is a little afraid of the insect world, enjoy!_

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Chapter Four: Anticipating Needs \- _"The One Where Spiders Threaten the LAPD"_

_Cockroaches, eh._

An actual invasion of cockroaches. Andy looked at the salad on his desk with disgust. How was he supposed to eat anything after seeing an army of pests invade his kitchen this morning; completely conquering and making a home on his sourdough toast. Toast which he had literally been dreaming about twenty minutes before waking.

_Stupid carb free diet_, he thought to himself. Making him go mad with dreams of food he should reasonably be allowed to eat, and was going to eat if it wasn't for those damn bugs.

_Eh_, he could not eat his salad, even knowing it came from the café downstairs and not his cockroach infested dump. What was he going to do about his house? The fumigation would take most of the day, a day Provenza was conveniently having renovations done, a day when Mike's house was being invaded by a plague of teenagers, and as for Julio… well he was in a mood that did not encourage camaraderie.

It looked like he would be sleeping at work tonight, enjoying the comforts of the fold out bed usually reserved for keen rookies trying to catch naps in between new cases. They weren't built for comfort, or the needs of an older gentleman's back. Just thinking about the crackling noises his spine was going to make after a nights sleep there was making him tentatively touch his lower back in apprehension.

"Going somewhere?" Sharon asked, folder in hand, as she looked at the overnight bag on his desk.

"Oh no where in particular, just reacquainting myself with the comforts offered by LAPD Headquarters while my house is being fumigated."

Sharon scrunched her nose up and leaned in closer.

"It's not rats, is it?" She asked just above a whisper.

Moving in closer himself he replied, "no, but it's not much better ...cockroaches."

She leaned back quickly, scrunching her face more tightly than before. Looking behind her she noticed Provenza wasn't at his desk and quickly remembered he had taken a couple of days off to do some renovations.

Andy was now shuffling about his salad with a high degree of suspicion. Sharon looked around the room wondering why he hadn't asked any of his coworkers whether he could stay the night. But after cataloging tales of their weekend plans she quickly realised how few options Andy had.

"You didn't bring that from home, did you?" she asked pointing at the salad.

"God no. I just don't know if I can eat it, or frankly anything."

She smiled at him, his facial expression resembling an old retriever the kids had looked after when they were young. Unlike the dog, he could look after himself, but she couldn't help but pity him as he sat so despondent, unaware of how needy he was appearing. _Perhaps_ she thought, _someone should throw him a bone._

_._

* * *

_._

By the late afternoon the remaining team were slowly making their way out of the door, except for Andy who wasn't sure what to do with himself, and still hadn't made much of an effort to eat anything since this morning.

She could see him slouching over his computer. The idea was to go over some old files and maybe do some admin to make his job easier on Monday, but instead his efforts to look busy just made him look bored, and a little depressed. His gaze was often drawn to his partner's desk and back to his own. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't gauge Sharon standing next to him.

"Come on. Come with me," she said picking up the bag on the floor and putting it in his lap.

"What? Where?" he asked, now noticing she had her jacket on and her handbag over her shoulder.

"Rusty has camped on my couch before, so your sixty-something year old back can have his bed, and rest assured my apartment is cockroach free."

"Ah, um, ah-" he replied.

"You know I can't say the same for this place. I ran into a cockroach in the hallway, and then there was the spider in the bathroom…"

"Spider?" Andy replied grabbing his bag and standing up a little too quickly.

"Yeah it was hanging down from the air vent," she replied curling her fingers to imitate the shape of the creature.

Andy looked at what her hand was doing and then up at the ceiling.

"Oh, I don't think they hang out in the murder room. Come on, let's go then," she said gently pulling on his arm to get him to look at her again.

He wasn't sure if he replied to her or not but he did pick up his bag and walk out of the office. But every now and then he found himself looking back at the ceiling.

"Andy, you're going to trip over if you don't look where you're going,"

The realisation of what he agreed to was just setting in, and it hit him that maybe the spiders he feared shouldn't be his main concern.

He was starting to wonder about the friendship he had with Sharon. _Captain Raydor_, he corrected his thoughts.

His family viewed the situation as more than it was, and his partner was no better. He continued to make insinuations on the appearance of their outings, rather than the reality of them. His feeble attempts to veer both parties off the status of his relationship was just a temporary measure. What continued to baffle Andy was the ever shifting boundaries between their assumed relationship, and the platonic status they both believed they were maintaining.

She was his friend, a friend he seemed to spend a lot of time with. He just had to tell himself this was one of these close platonic friendships between two people of the opposite sex he had heard about. He was sure he'd had close friendships with women before that were purely platonic. Though he couldn't recall spending as much time with them as he did with Sharon, nor did he recall ever seeking them out as much as he sought her out.

He'd drift to that place where he thought of her as someone… someone more than a thought, or a need, someone whose place in his life was complementary to his own, but to dwell on it was uncomfortable. Unless Sharon indicated otherwise, she was either completely unaware of how their friendship appeared, or didn't think about him as much as he seemed to think of her.

_Eh_, he breathed out with heavy resignation. This was not the sort of complication he wanted to think about. Not now, while she was being so kind and offering him a roof over his head. No, denial and distraction were a much better option.

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* * *

.

When they got to her place, Sharon updated Rusty on the situation. He had grinned in that way kids do when they assume something, but had said nothing and just handed Andy some bedding from the closet, while he moved some of his belongings to the lounge room.

Sharon was eager to have her own space in the kitchen and pushed them both in front of the TV. Rusty seemed accustomed to this tact and quietly relayed to the lieutenant that it was his mother's way of washing off the day and reconnecting with the captain-less persona of Sharon Raydor. It didn't stop them from both offering their assistance, but she wouldn't have it, and eventually agreed to them offering their services to clean up after dinner.

While Andy did want to help her cook, he was a little relieved she didn't need him. His mind drifted and he was starting to feel uncomfortable in how comfortable he was with her and Rusty. This was not a life he could indulge his hopes in.

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* * *

.

Twenty minutes passed and the smells from a home cooked meal wafted through the lounge room. She looked up hearing the rustle of movement on the couch, and smiled watching them synchronously turn as if the aroma of freshly cooked pasta sauce hit them at the same time, and with the same force.

"I guess your appetite has returned then," Sharon smiled, pointing the spoon in Andy's direction.

"I guess so," he replied.

"It's pasta, I hope that's going to be ok with your diet," she replied as she began scooping it into the bowls.

"Let's just say, the diet is on hiatus."

She smiled at him as she passed them their bowls. Going back to the bench she took her own bowl and shuffled them aside so she could sit in-between them.

"Well this is cosy," Rusty mentioned before getting up and taking his meal to the table.

"I'm going to sit where the civilised people eat dinner,"

Sharon rolled her eyes at her son and began flicking the channels to find something else to watch. It was then that they landed on a documentary showing the life of the spider.

"Eww," they simultaneously uttered, and Sharon quickly changed the channel, leaving it on the news for now.

"Thank you for this, all of it really. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it." he said, grateful to finally have some food in his stomach that actually made him feel good.

She smiled at him in that way where she's acknowledging him, but thinking of something else at the same time. She looked back at her bowl but still felt his eyes on her. He tried not to make it obvious but she knew when someone was watching her. It wasn't intense, or uncomfortable. It was just as if he was trying to remember something, and her face was a part of that memory.

"You're my friend Andy. Friends provide pest free food and living arrangements for each other."

He laughed at her, then stopped and just smiled at her.

They stayed there _in-smile_ with each other. She wasn't ready to look away yet, and he wasn't sure if he could. They weren't sure how to break what was happening until the quiet broke itself when Rusty's fork unceremoniously hit the side of the bowl. Andy broke contact first and returned to foraging for tomato pieces in his bowl, while Sharon turned and stared wide-eyed at the television screen in front of her.

_Him, her - this_, she thought.

She carefully looked to her side to check that he was still there, and as she saw him looking for distraction in the meal she had prepared, she turned back to the TV to seek a distraction of her own.

.

.

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To be continued…


	5. Quality Time

_I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story, and thank you so much for all the encouraging reviews. This chapter explores the occasional pitfalls of when technology and family mix._

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Chapter Five: Quality Time \- _"The One Where Sharon Struggles With Google Apps"_

"Alright then how about Saturday afternoon?" Provenza asked Flynn as he flipped through his notebook.

"Hmm," was the reply.

"Well?! I need a day when we're all in town, are you free or not?"

This was the third time they had to reschedule this meet up, and it was becoming an ongoing struggle to get Andy to go anywhere at the moment. He just sat in the chair opposite him scratching the back of his head.

"You haven't been on a date in ages—"

"Shh, would you keep it down? I don't need the whole office to hear."

Andy clenched the chair tightly. He surveyed the room around him, waving off Julio who had chosen _that_ moment to look away from his computer.

Provenza moved his own chair closer and lowered his voice. "It's a double-date you know? I can't exactly go without you. What's wrong with you any way? You've always liked Claire."

Andy nodded his head to the side, agreeing reluctantly. He wasn't sure how to explain it, and certainly not in a way where he wouldn't be made the butt of Provenza's jokes.

The quiet was then momentarily interrupted by the sounds of heels walking through the entrance. Along with them came the familiar dragging of a pair of trainers, that could only belong to Rusty Beck.

Andy watched her as she glided her way around the desks. She smiled looking over in their direction, and returning the smile he waved back. The whole time his friend watched him and the Captain with a keen eye, and a tight jaw.

"Seeing as the Captain is here, maybe you should go and check your calendar with her."

"What?" Andy replied, turning back to his partner.

"You are the worst excuse for a friend I have ever had. You aren't even interested in my help. I don't know _why_ I bother." He said slamming the notebook on the table, not caring who looked up at them.

"Please, I am interested, I just don't know..."

"If the Captain would mind you dating someone else?"

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* * *

.

"Soooo Sharon, what are the chances of me dragging you along to miniature golf on Saturday with me and Kris?" Rusty asked tapping his fingers on the back of the chair.

"You and Kris?" Sharon asked, rearranging her folders before sitting down in the seat opposite him. "I thought you weren't seeing her anymore. Did you tell her the truth?"

Rusty turned the chair he was leaning against, and flopped clumsily into the seat.

"Well, kind of," Sharon looked at him over her glasses. "I'm working on it. That's kind of why it would be easier if you came along."

"I don't know Rusty..."

"Oh come on Sharon, you've been at work every Saturday for the last four weeks. Don't you want to remember what the sun looks like?"

Sharon opened her desk draw and quickly stashed her folder away.

"I only went to work briefly. We live in California, I have not forgotten what the sun looks like. I'm sure if you adjust the blinds in the murder room, you too can familiarise yourself with the sun's rays."

"Ha, ha. You know Sharon, sarcasm doesn't become you. You're starting to sound like Flynn out there," Rusty said as he pointed his thumb out towards the murder room.

Sharon raised an eyebrow at her youngest son and leaned forward to take a closer look at the person in question.

He was leaning forward on his chair, straining to move closer to Lieutenant Provenza. She saw Provenza's eyes roll, and for a minute there she thought they made eye contact, right before both gentlemen leant back in their chairs in a huff.

She knew their arguments never lasted very long, they were like two siblings teasing each other. Oh sure they'd throw names about and disown each other one minute, but as soon as one of them had something amusing to share, they'd seek each other out, eager to make the most of an inside joke.

"You know Sharon, it's rude to stare,"

"What?" She asked, temporarily forgetting what had caused her to look in Andy's direction.

"You were staring at the Lieutenants, and then you did that thing where you twist your mouth over to one side like you're trying not to smile at something."

Sharon moved her chair in and leant forward on her desk.

"I was distracted. I hate it when they argue," she replied.

"No you don't. You hate it when you don't know what they're arguing about, and even more when they make up and you don't get the stupid things they laugh about. You need to get out more. Another excellent reason why you should come with me and Kris to miniature golf."

"Hmm," Sharon took out her phone from her bag and looked up her calendar. Rusty watched her as she pulled and pushed her bottom lip out, scrolling and clicking through screens he couldn't see. She started to tilt her head at one particular thing she was reading, then stopped pressing buttons, and put her phone back in her bag.

As she put her bag down her eyes drifted out the window again, this time meeting Andy's downtrodden expression as he rolled his chair back to his desk. As he saw her his eyes lifted and he grinned at her with both exhaustion and relief. Knowing that feeling well she sent a similar expression his way.

"You know I hear Lieutenant Flynn likes golf," Rusty said.

Sharon snorted, "Are you kidding? If he doesn't have a team to yell at, and a coach to insult I don't think it rates a mention."

"You could just book it into his calendar and he could turn up by accident," Rusty replied looking all too pleased with himself.

Sharon's mouth opened slightly as her eyes widened and then came back again. She looked like she was going to say something, than quickly thought better of it. Rusty had seen shock, but he'd never seen her look so incredulous before.

"Google calendar Sharon. You share your calendar with all your children, and apparently Flynn too. Your accidental movie nights and the Saturday trips to Venice beach seem to have been planned at least three days in advance. I mean we didn't mean to see them, but you set up alerts to remind you the day before, and you forgot to set it to private. Oh, and according to your calendar this week.." Rusty pulled out his phone from his pocket. "…you and Andy have Saturday afternoon listed as 'maybe coffee', so can this be 'maybe golf' instead?"

'Maybe Saturdays' were becoming her favourite days of the week. They weren't as regular as Rusty made out, at least she thought they weren't. _But who looks back at a calendar once the week is over?_

She began to regret the day Ricky had convinced her to move on from her old paper diary and hook her up with this electronic frontier into exposure. She'd have to ask Mike how to fix her privacy settings, but for now she had something she should rearrange.

"Andy is my friend Rusty, and he's not the only friend I put in that… in that intolerable social broadcast machine," she replied as she glared at her bag.

"I'm just teasing you Sharon, and I'm sorry for not telling you about the calendar thing. It was just this little inside joke I had with Ricky and Emily, and it was nice feeling part of a secret like that - you know like real siblings do."

"Hmm," she replied, wanting to investigate this further, but also secretly pleased how well Rusty was now getting along with his brother and sister.

"I will go with you and Kris to miniature golf, on the condition that there is no more snooping, and please don't mention this to either one of the lieutenants. Deal?"

"Deal. So are you bringing Andy along then?"

She looked out the window at her friend now busying himself on the phone.

"Hmm, maybe," she replied, watching her youngest stand up, and walk a little more carefree as he made his way to her door.

"I can work with maybe," he replied, heading out of her office and waving at Andy as he went to meet Buzz in electronics.

As she watched her son turn the corner she quickly dived her arm into her bag and retrieved her phone. Unlocking her screen she promptly opened her calendar and scrolled backwards. A name kept reoccurring; more than Ricky, certainly more than Emily, and surprisingly more than Gavin - it was Andy.

There he was: an outing, a coffee, a family visit - several times a month.

.

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To be continued…

* * *

**A/N:** _For me I saw Sharon's shock in "Acting Out" as coming from a place of denial. I think she believes they are platonic friends, but every now and again she is aware that it could be seen as something more. This chapter, like the moment at the end of the last chapter, is a moment where she thinks about the perception. That's how I'm justifying using the 'several times a month' line of thought here. For me when Rusty uses the line in the episode, the disturbing clarity comes from her remembering she had the same thought only a few months ago._


	6. Body Language

_Due to a very hectic pre-Easter work load this one is a little late. Thankfully the next chapter is almost done, so you won't have to wait long for that one. I hope you are all enjoying the Easter weekend, and thanks again for all the encouraging reviews. Much appreciated xx._

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Chapter Six: Body Language -_"The One With The Night At The Museum"_

His four-tapped knock against a partially opened door was his 9am announcement that he had picked up her mail.

It wasn't an every day occurrence, because the important mail came directly to her. This mail was sorted from the others, and deemed by reception as relating to her public role as Captain of Major Crimes.

As the division had changed focus under her leadership, it was decided that she would play a greater role in the public relations of the office. She had the odd speaking invitation, often as a representative of female officers in the LAPD. Along with invitations to social good will gatherings thrown by the Mayor whenever words like 'police brutality' would rear their way into the spotlight. Occasionally these gatherings would lead to other invitations; not directly related to her role, but her interests in community and local culture.

"There's not a lot today. In fact I think they may have mixed up some of your mail with Taylor's again, or maybe Lindsey at the reception desk thinks I deliver his mail too." Andy said, making a second pile of letters for Chief Taylor.

"Are you saying you don't deliver mail to all the commanding officers on this floor?" She teased, trying to get a peak at the letters for Chief Taylor.

Andy looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

"So is his mail better than mine?" Leaning forward to get a closer look.

Andy just rolled his eyes her.

"Here, take a look," he said, as he passed the letters to her.

"I really shouldn't."

"Knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Rule book Raydor is a lousy snoop. That's why she needs me to be curious for her."

Now it was Sharon's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"All he ever gets is junk, and the occasional sports ticket. You, on the other hand get envelopes like these, with fancy calligraphy."

Fancy calligraphy seemed to spur her interest. Reaching forward a little too eagerly, she accidentally grabbed Andy's hand instead of the letter.

They looked at each other immediately, exchanged grins and shrugged it off as she moved her hand and took the letter from a better angle. Unfortunately, her speed in taking the letter made her less strategic, and she knocked over the pile of mail meant for Chief Taylor.

Ignoring the mess of letters that now spread over her desk, Andy leant over slightly, trying to get a look at the letter she received. Sharon could sense him trying to look, and just shook her head in amusement, passing him the letter.

"A charity banquet?" Andy asked, admiring the stationery.

Sharon nodded, and carefully took the letter back from Andy's hand.

From what she was reading it was going to be a formal event at the Japanese American Museum, with a charity auction to raise money for a new photographic exhibition. She smiled noticing the personalised invite from the museum's director, and carefully tore off the two tickets attached.

"Hmm," she hummed, smoothing the tickets underneath her fingers. "I have an extra ticket, how comfortable are you with accompanying your boss to a formal event?"

Andy smiled to himself, lowering his head in an attempt to cover his amusement.

"About as comfortable as her inviting herself to my daughter's wedding."

Sharon raised her eyebrow and felt her eyes begin to dart back and forth.

"Relax Sharon, I loved having you with me, that's kind of why this is funny. We've already done the formal outing before, it's not like we are exploring new ground here."

Sharon let her shoulders loosen, and moved her hand to adjust the knot forming in the back of her neck.

"You know, I think maybe this is something I should take Rusty to instead. He could probably do with expanding his cultural horizons. And you... You..."

Andy's furrowed brow seemed to be moving along at the same pace as her explanation. Rising and falling in disbelief and disappointment, as he realised he was getting replaced with a younger man.

"Oh," he finally uttered. "Ok, ...uh you'll have to tell me what you think of it then."

Sharon pulled back a little, tilting her hand down slightly, trying to read his expression.

"You actually sound disappointed."

He looked up at her, "Why wouldn't I be? I was told that they have a pretty neat Dodgers exhibition there..." She looked down at her desk, pressed her lips, and then looked back at him. "...Plus you know ...the company." He continued, leaning on the back of the chair next to him.

"A Dodgers exhibition?" She asked.

"Yeah, Brotherhood of the Game. I heard it's very good. Plus when I looked it up a couple of weeks ago I noticed they have a demonstration on the Japanese Tea Ceremony. Maybe I can pick up some tips. I'm guessing their methods are a lot more interesting than me grumbling at how slow the water in the break room takes to boil every morning."

"Oh I don't know, I think your ritual has a charm all of its own... But seeing as you are so eager to learn new skills, I wouldn't want to take that opportunity away from you."

"So I'm re-invited?"

She nodded her head and pulled out her phone to add the event to her calendar. Just as she was about to add the description, she changed her mind and pulled out her new day planner instead.

"Saturday, I'll pick you up at 6," she said passing him his invitation.

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* * *

.

She knocked on his door, he was quick on his feet to answer, but as he approached his pace slowed. Turning towards the mirror on his right, he checked his suit in the reflection. It was relatively new, and it was one of those impulse purchases that were brought in the unconscious hope of going somewhere, rather than actually having anything planned.

The three piece suit was sharp and flattering, and with a slight adjustment to his tie he was more than ready to open the door for Sharon.

Just as she was readying herself to knock again, the door opened and she stood there with her fist frozen in place, on a door that was no longer there.

"Hi," he said, taking her hand in his own, and ushering her into the lounge room.

"Sharon, you look beautiful," he said, taking in the dark blue sleeveless dress she was wearing.

She was about to say something about his stylish attire when looking like he forgot something, Andy excused himself and left the room for a moment.

He returned moments later carrying a small bouquet of flowers that made her mouth gape.

"Oh my god, blue roses. I love blue flowers... They're incredible."

She moved towards him. Looking at him briefly, hiding a smile as she looked down at the flowers.

"You know, there is no such thing as a natural blue rose. The florist told me people like them because they seem to hold some hope of the unattainable. I just like how they stand out amongst all the shades of red. Plus you seem to be wearing a lot of blue these days, so chances were high they would match your outfit. Although..." Andy looked down at his own suit. "I don't think my black goes with your blue, maybe I should change."

Sharon took the flowers from him and placed them on the side table. She tilted her head to the side to get a better look at the suit he was wearing.

"Oh I don't know, turn around and let me see how the light falls on you."

He laughed at her, nodded, and then turned in a complete circle.

"Hmm," she replied with her chin against her hand. "I think you underestimate the power of a good accessory."

It was his turn to watch her leave. His eyes followed the form of her dress as she sashayed passed him to the kitchen and back, returning with a pin and a pair of scissors.

He looked at her, and followed her eyes to the flowers. Picking up a stem, she carefully cut the rose and moved it against his jacket. As she held it there, his hand moved to hers and they accidentally bumped into each other. She pursed her lips together and raised an eyebrow.

"We seem to be a little out of sync lately." She commented as she pinned the rose to his lapel.

"That just means I need to step back, and you need to take the lead for a while." He replied, smoothing down his jacket.

"Me?"

"I only want to go, where you're willing to lead." He replied.

"Seriously? Did you read that on a greeting card?"

"No. And hey you're taking me out, remember? I didn't just invite myself to this."

"Right," she nodded. "After you then," she said as she opened the door for him.

He quirked his eyebrow at her act of chivalry, and smiled at her as he walked in front.

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* * *

.

A violin, a flute, and a cello took turns wooing Sharon's feet to a subtle tap.

It wasn't so soft that he didn't notice the way her leg elevated and fell. She found her place in a gentle rhythm that coaxed her from her lazy gaze at the band, to his hand resting inches from hers. Noticing where her gaze fell, she looked back at the band and watched the couples around her dancing.

Distracted, her fingers played an invisible instrument on the table's surface. He thought to ask her if she had ever played the piano before, but that wasn't a question for right now. At the moment he had another thought in mind.

"Would you like a little interruption?" he asked.

She looked over at him, slightly puzzled, mostly curious.

"…to that daydream you're having. There's an approaching break in the music for encouraging reluctant dancers."

"And I suppose you're offering?"

"Always," he replied, and leant his hand across the table.

"I…" she started.

He took her hand in his and gently smoothed his thumb over hers.

"I'd love to," she finally replied.

He smiled, and they both rose. As they reached the dance floor, he turned her so they faced one another. One hand still holding hers, another at her waist, she softened and he smiled.

As they moved slowly across the dance floor Andy noticed Sharon's movements became stilted. Her eyes kept looking down, and she formed a tight grip on his hand. He tried to subtly adjust his hand, but she wasn't allowing much movement.

He looked at her, then looked at their hands. Smiling, he leaned towards her ear speaking quietly, "I won't leave if you let go."

She was pulled back from wherever her mind had taken her, and looked up at Andy and their joint hands.

"My feet are a little shaky," she said.

He looked down at her feet. They'd stopped moving, and he was wondering whether she was having second thoughts.

"It's these shoes," she said looking down at her feet, "they're new, so try not to make any unexpected moves, or I might lose my balance."

He let go of her hand and raised her chin so he could look at her properly.

"I'll keep the unexpected to a minimum. Take my shoulder. You lead, and I'll keep you steady."

This was new, yet not unwanted.

So she moved forward and replaced his hand with his shoulder.

She expected him to move tightly against her, but his arm didn't clutch her shoulder, instead it rested between an embrace and a light touch. In this position she could trip or fall and he would catch her. So she relaxed, and leaned into the embrace and her arm fell loosely across his shoulders.

This was her friend, _maybe this is what friends do._

She wasn't going to fall.

.

.

.

To be continued…

**A/N:** _For those curious the blue roses Andy would have given to Sharon are just white roses that are hand coloured to look blue. They've actually tried to genetically engineer roses to make them blue, but they end up a pale violet colour._  
_Also the event celebrating the Dodgers, along with the Tea Ceremony are actual events that are listed on the Japanese American Museum website from last year. So it's quite possible that baseball once again played a part in their not-dates._

_The more you know :)_


	7. Family Matters

_Ever wondered how Ricky and Andy seemed to know each other? I decided to answer that question. Thanks again for all the interest and feedback on my little story series :)_

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Chapter Seven: Family Matters \- _"The One When Ricky Met Andy"_

Somewhere in Ricky's pockets were a set of keys his mother had given him a month ago. The keys were a promise, the promise involved visiting more often, and making an effort getting to know Rusty. This was his second visit since his promise, and things were looking… Promising?

"Hang on, hang on, don't drop the soda. I've got it," Andy said as he pulled out a set of keys from his pocket.

Ricky watched the keys appear as if Andy, being granted the powers of a magician, just pulled a rabbit out of his hat. As Andy brought his key's to the door, Ricky went to open his mouth to say something, but instead heard the door open from the inside.

"You know guys, you could have just knocked. I did say I'd be home at five." Rusty said as he took a bag off both men and proceeded to the kitchen.

"Thanks Rusty," Andy replied, thankful to be free of the bulky bag he'd been laden with.

"So," Rusty began as he pulled the food from the bags. "…did you get everything then?"

"Everything Mom did not put on the list, and more!" Ricky replied, pleased with himself as he held up two bags of Doritos.

"Wait, there was a list?!" Andy asked, mildly horrified, but some how not surprised.

"There's always a list Andy. Has Mom never taken you on an epic saga through Whole Foods? Have you never braved the hallowed halls of IKEA? She's got to have at least taken you to Canter's on Fairfax right?"

"Actually he takes _her_ there," Rusty interrupted.

"Hmm, interesting. You're full of surprises, aren't you Andy Flynn?" Ricky smiled at the older gentleman, putting the sodas in the fridge.

"Yeah sure, I guess. Listen, do you want me to go back and pick up the foods on this list? Or, are you quite content to withstand your mother's famous death glare?" Andy asked. He wondered why he ever thought Sharon would request three different varieties of beef jerky.

"Relax Andy. If I know Mum, and I do..." Ricky opened a bag of Doritos and passed it over to Rusty. "She's already predicted my duplicitous shopping expedition, and will have already planned a grocery pick up of all things green and flavourless on her way back from Gavin's."

Andy raised an eyebrow at the tallest Raydor but quickly found himself rummaging through the bag for the nut mix he had bought earlier. He wasn't completely sure Ricky was out of the woods yet, but maybe that Raydor charm he used on him earlier could also work its magic on Sharon — maybe.

Before Ricky had invited him along to the baseball game, his Saturday was meant to be devoted to cleaning. Specifically to getting rid of the stacks of sport magazines he had accumulated over the last ten years. They had sat there in his garage, teasing him like an exhibition to hoarding. Sharon had come over after work one day and found the precarious stacks hilarious. Even going so far as to poke them in order to 'test their structural integrity', she said.

He of course just found the whole collection embarrassing. Much like he was finding being suckered into one of Ricky's junk food deployment crusades mildly regretful. The glutton fest Ricky had planned would no doubt have him returning to the carb free diet of his nightmares.

He was happy to note that Rusty seemed to be in good spirits. Though he had missed the planned game with Ricky, due to his first day on _Badge of Justice_, Ricky was understanding, and they had arranged to spend the night together watching stupid movies. Andy wasn't particularly sure why Rusty had asked him along. But five minutes after his text, Ricky had asked him to come along as well.

"Andy can I grab your keys? I left something in your car," Ricky asked.

"It's not more food is it?" Rusty asked. "Cause we might have to evict Sharon's Waldorf salad if you want to jam more food in this thing." Rusty continued.

He started to rearrange the contents of the fridge. "No, no more food. Though we might want to order Pizza later," Ricky replied as he caught the keys Andy threw at him.

"Sometimes I just don't understand how he's related to Sharon," Rusty mentioned now that Ricky was well out of earshot, and on his way to Andy's car.

"He gets his exuberance from his father, but he can be quite thoughtful, and insightful like his mother." Andy replied, helping set up some snacks on the coffee table.

"Oh? And how do you know Ricky any way? When I brought him to the murder room a few weeks back, you both seemed very familiar with each other."

Andy smiled at the question, he had a very fond memory of meeting Ricky Raydor.

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* * *

.

_Andy had been sitting on a visitors bench outside of Headquarters for twenty minutes. He knew his son Daniel was a busy man, but he also knew he was easily distracted. Whether it was a woman, a conversation he didn't know how to finish, or a piece of architecture that caught his eye, Daniel Flynn could be caught doing an array of things that had nothing to do with meeting his father. He could also be avoiding the meeting entirely._

_Andy thumbed the tickets against the magazine he'd been reading, looking up again he noticed a tall young man approaching dressed casually. Finally, he thought, and he stood up ready with a smile to meet his son. As the young man came into focus Andy's shoulders began to slump, and he realised he was looking at someone else's son._

_"Wow you look like the last girl I went on a blind date with. Am I really that disappointing?" the young man asked. He watched Andy sit back on the bench rolling his eyes._

_"What do you want kid? I'm not really in the mood for comedians," Andy replied, still looking out towards the road for his son._

_"I'm Ricky. I'm here to meet my Mom, she works here. She's sort of new, so I thought I'd surprise her, and bring her coffee," he replied._

_"I'm Andy. That's nice to surprise her like that," Andy replied, relaxing a little knowing the guy must be a cop's kid._

_A phone vibrated. It was the kid's, and he pulled it out of his pocket, reading the text with a look of disappointment._

_"Something wrong?" Andy asked, looking over at the kid who seemed a little confused._

_"Yeah, I'm an idiot. I forgot my Mom's going through a tea phase at the moment. I mean she only talked about it the last time we spoke, so you'd think I'd remember. She remembers everything and I'm lucky if I remember her birthday."_

_"Details are important. Remembering things like that show you've paid attention, that the other person's needs come before your own. But she is your mother, and parents don't expect you to remember everything."_

_Ricky looked at the sports magazine in Andy's hand, and the Dodger's tickets his thumb seemed to be boring a hole into, and a theory started to form._

_"So I guess I must've looked like your son for a minute."_

_Andy looked up at the kid, Ricky he said his name was, and he followed the kid's eyes to the magazine and tickets he was clutching._

_"Yeah, a little. From a distance I guess," Andy sighed, and Ricky passed him the coffee meant for his mother._

_"Thanks kid." he replied and took a sip._

_"There should be some reward in making an effort - to meet your son I mean." Ricky said as he took a sip of coffee._

_"Effort only counts when they see it." Andy replied._

_"So be consistent, and available. He does know what your job is right?"_

_Andy nodded, still looking out to the road._

_"Then he knows there's not a lot of free time, and plenty of risk involved. Maybe you're not entirely the problem."_

_Andy looked at the kid. This twenty-something stranger, a cop's kid giving him the view from the other side. He couldn't help but wonder who his mother was, and how much time and effort she must've put into their relationship for him to be so insightful about the state of things._

_"That tea you forgot to get, I know a place my Captain likes, let me buy you a cup, for you know - giving me this," Andy tipped the coffee cup in his direction._

_"Thanks, but I think someone's waiting for you."_

_Andy looked behind him to the direction Ricky was indicating, and noticed with a sense of relief and joy the very distinct walk of his son Daniel. Ricky got up to leave when Andy stopped him for a moment._

_"Wait, I'd like you to meet him."_

_Andy put down the coffee and hugged his son, who seemed a little confused at first but after a time relaxed into the embrace. Andy patted his back and they parted shaking hands._

_"Hey son, I'm so glad you could make it. I want you to meet another officer's son, this is Ricky. Ricky, this is Daniel,"_

_Daniel smiled at Ricky and reached out his hand to shake._

_"Nice to meet you. I'm Ricky, Ricky Raydor,"_

_Andy stopped for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing together and the two young men looked over at him in confusion as he started laughing to himself._

_._

* * *

_._

"You will never believe who I ran into in the car park," exclaimed Ricky as he opened the door to the condo.

"I don't know, another one of Flynn's relatives?" Rusty asked, amused at the sudden appearance of his brother.

Ricky looked momentarily confused, but quickly shook it off as he moved to the side and gently pulled Sharon into view.

"Apparently she lives here, should we let her in?" Ricky replied.

His mother looked up at him, rolled her eyes and laughed, noticing for the first time Andy standing with Rusty in the kitchen.

"No groceries?" Rusty asked, peering his head at all angles to see if Sharon was carrying anything.

"Oh they're in the car still. Ricky needed my help carrying up these bags of…. Wait. Ricky what am I carrying?" she asked, opening one of the bags and then staring blankly at the contents.

"What? What?" Ricky asked, picking up the bags Sharon had put down and taking them into the lounge room.

Andy came out from the kitchen and said hello to Sharon while he hung her bag up for her. She smiled at him, and nodded in Ricky's direction. Clearly indicating he should go check out the situation.

"Magazines? Sports magazines from 2009? What do you have these for?" Rusty asked as he flicked through the pages of one of the magazines.

"Reading Rusty, it's something we do while we wait." Ricky replied.

"Wait? Wait for what?" he asked.

"Mum, pick up Baseball Digest Sept/Oct 2010 edition, just under your hand there and turn to page 12," Ricky said.

Everyone leaned in as Sharon picked up the magazine, checked the date and began to turn the pages. As she turned page 11 something slipped out of the magazine. Looking at the floor she noticed a small envelope. Everyone watched her as she picked it up. She looked next to her at Andy who seemed just as confused as she was, and still completely stumped why Ricky had taken some of his magazines to begin with. Sharon turned over the envelope and carefully opened it. Inside were two tickets, she looked at the tickets, then looked at Andy, and then back to Ricky.

"It has come to _our_ attention," Ricky said as he looked over at Rusty. "…that you have revived your interest in baseball, even so far as to start wearing the merchandise of a certain team. So we have taken it upon _ourselves_, that with your birthday coming up in September you should take the opportunity to see a game for yourself in one of Dodger stadium's most premiere viewing platforms."

Andy and Sharon looked back down at the tickets in her hands. She moved her fingers to the side and noticed that the tickets were in fact Skybox tickets.

"I don't get it," Rusty asked, moving to Ricky's side and looking at the bags of magazines. "…what exactly are we waiting for?"

Ricky looks over at Sharon and Andy who are still staring at the tickets blankly, and he grins, raising his eyebrow at Rusty.

"Our mother is about to step up to the plate. She's going to take Andy Flynn out to the ball game."

.

.

.

To be continued.

.

**A/N:** _Fanfic, something we do while we wait_ \- Hiatus Proverb


	8. In Absence

_Where the first seven chapters were set in the hiatus between season 3 and season 3.5, these next chapters are set after the season 3 final. I wanted the first seven chapters to explore what was hinted at by Rusty in "Acting Out"; while these next chapters explore the perception of their relationship, in the context of Stroh's escape._

_._

_._

_._

Chapter Eight: In Absence \- _"The One With Goodbye"_

She didn't disappear all at once. She stayed because her feet were accustomed to the ground.

Every day Rusty left for college, part of her left with him. Sharon shuffled through tasks, stilted and blind, trying to reach a place where he was safe. It was a liturgy of packed lunches and emails, a series of communications that asked him to keep close, knowing he needed to be gone.

The dinners between her and Andy settled into a comforting routine. He talked, she ate. She'd turn her fork, touching the food, watching it — eventually eating it. He could still make her laugh, when he could find her. She was there, but she was also somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't figure out.

Andy saw grief in her manner that he was unaccustomed to. She was grieving the loss of her role as protector. One she thought she could always offer. She was fighting between feeling pride in her son, and the burden of a mother's misplaced guilt.

"Maybe I should go," Andy said, packing the last of their dishes in the dishwasher.

She turned around quickly from the dining table, hearing his tone more than the actual words. She looked confused, then all at once aware. She tucked her hair behind her ears and stood to join him in the kitchen.

"I'm not helping. I'd be better for you at the office where I can monitor the search for that asshole." He said, dropping the dish towel on the bench.

He wasn't sure where to look, but he wasn't ready to let his face reveal how useless he felt. So he looked anywhere but at the tired face searching him out. As he made a step to move away, he was stopped by her hand on his arm.

"It won't always be like this Sharon, I promise you. I know you need to be able to fix things, but none of us are going to let you fix it alone."

She looked up at him. He saw the brow of someone heavy in thought. There were echoes of this expression on the night he told her that he'd wait in case she needed him. The same listlessness in her eyes the night he asked her to hang in there. Carefully he held her hand on his arm, and she stayed there; not clutching, not caressing, just remaining in place.

"I won't leave if you let go." Echoing a choice, and a reassurance he had offered only months before.

Her mouth tilted in a way that could only be described as reluctant amusement. She tucked away her bottom lip, and turned her face down the hallway and back. Rusty wasn't home, Wednesday nights his classes always ran late. So their 'Maybe Saturdays', became 'Maybe Wednesdays', and there was nothing maybe about them. Since Stroh's escape, Wednesday nights were always Andy's.

"He's not home yet," she spoke.

"No, but he will be. It's only 8:30." Andy replied, walking over to his phone.

"There's no messages, no alerts, just another Wednesday night Sharon."

She watched him standing on the other side of her couch. He was waiting, he was always waiting. She didn't know why, but something about her always kept him waiting. There was a lump in her throat, and she swallowed against it. Taking a breath, she walked to the couch where he stood and sat down. He watched her, looking for permission in her eyes, and he took the seat next to her.

"Am I helping you Sharon? And don't rush to say yes, I want you to really think about it. You don't grumble when I change the channel, you let Rusty decorate his room in colours I know you don't like, and you've stopped humming to the radio whenever that stupid Pharrell song comes on. You may act fine at work, but you're not the same. I can't get a read on you, and it worries me because I don't know where you are."

She looked up at him through heavy eyelashes. Her face tensed, and he desperately wanted to cradle her cheek, and allow his hand to soften her expression. But at the same time, he couldn't bare to be the one that let her break her composure. She was feeling the weight of something she couldn't articulate, so without a word, she let her head rest on his shoulders.

She'd only done this once before, it was during their first Wednesday of this new arrangement. He'd sensed then that it had been out of tiredness more than a willingness to connect. He wasn't sure what it was now. Perhaps this was her way of breaching the distance; an offering, or acknowledgment of their increasing closeness, without the need for any strong definition. He picked up her hand, and massaged his thumb between her knuckles.

"I'm going to have to get used to this," she said, still quiet, and at a distance. "It's not as if he has been safe this whole time, there was always a chance. I just thought, I just hoped - maybe it would work out this time, and he could finally have some closure."

She turned her head and looked up at Andy. His face was so close, and she wanted to lean into him, but it wasn't so simple. Whatever they were, whatever they were thought to be, was on hold. Yet here they are, in each other's space, playing roles without titles.

"You help Andy, I'm just not accustomed to help."

He squeezed her hand, and went to say something, but stopped when he heard the front door unlocking. They noticeably hitched forward, waiting until they could clearly make out Rusty's jacket as he moved around the door.

"Hey," he said, putting his bag down, and slumping into the seat opposite them.

"How was school kid?" Andy asked.

.

* * *

.

The weeks continued in a similar manner, but with an increasingly frustrating ebb and flow. Every step they made towards finding Stroh found a new step backwards. January, then February became flooded with increasingly testing cases. Andy was exhausted, and when he wasn't exhausted he was worried — not just for Sharon, but for Rusty too.

Despite the brave face Rusty would put on each day, he could see the tell tale signs of a person struggling to control the uncontrollable. In front of Sharon he managed a masterful performance, but there were moments in the break room, on the balcony of Sharon's condo, and in the respite of Provenza's lounge room, that the strain was visibly conclusive.

As the weeks crept forward, he was often staying at safe locations with Flynn or Provenza. She trusted that he was safe in their hands, but Andy knew she must be starting to get suspicious of Rusty's actions. She struggled to update Rusty on their lack of progress finding Stroh; and he struggled keeping it to himself how much it bothered him.

"Flynn did you ever get rid of all those sports magazines?" Rusty asked from across the table in the break room.

Andy was pouring his second cup of coffee for the morning, and what he believed was Sharon's third. But it was hard to tell with how early she seemed to come into work these days. Hearing Rusty, he left the coffee on the bench, and walked over to sit with him.

"Apart from the couple of bags Ricky took a few months ago, the rest are still sitting there. A reminder of my laziness every time I walk by. Why do you ask?"

Rusty genuinely smiled at him. It was one of the few bright spots that had come out of this whole Stroh situation.

They had begun a real friendship of sorts. At first it was based on their mutual concern for Sharon, and occasionally giving Rusty a break from her watchful eye. Then it had blossomed into something else.

It wasn't like the friendship he had with Ricky. He didn't share a lot of the same interests with Rusty. Instead his interest was Rusty himself. Andy enjoyed the simple pleasure of getting to know the kid — his loves, hates, and all his little habits. It was something he felt he missed with his own kids, and something he treasured with Rusty.

They would hang out, each doing their own thing just doing it in the same place. It was comforting to have someone he could just sit with, and feel okay in the silence.

With Rusty the quiet was his way of relaxing. There was no concern that he would go somewhere out of reach. He found comfort in connecting, which spoke volumes of the trust Sharon had instilled in him. A few years ago he would have run from company, but now he sought it out.

"Spring break is coming up, I thought maybe I could come over and we can finally deal with your hoarding problem."

"Don't you want to do something that's actually fun during your vacation?"

"We could drag Sharon along to miniature golf in between cleaning? I just think it's about time we dealt with this little problem of yours."

"Alright, but if we do putt putt again, no more moving Sharon's ball so she's closer to the hole. She's kind of funny when she's losing." Andy replied.

He patted Rusty gently on the shoulder and went back to making coffee.

.

* * *

.

Rusty was true to his word. On the first day of Spring break he turned up with coffee, and doughnuts. Andy looked at what he was carrying, and smiled at the kid before opening the front door to let him in.

He didn't come alone.

She was dressed casually in jeans, and a dark blue sweater. She leant against her car just watching him. So he called out to Rusty, letting him know that he would join him in a moment. Closing the door, he made his way over to Sharon.

"Hi," he said, hands in his pockets.

"Hi," she replied, looking up, pushing one lip under the other.

"Was this your idea or his?" she asked, also putting her hands in her pockets.

"His actually. For some reason the kid likes hanging out with me, even if it involves cleaning."

Sharon tipped her head to the side, as if she was giving a salute without the hand gesture.

"You should know he likes you, and it's not easy for him to like people. He gets attached, and it's hard for him to let go. He… he doesn't always realise how attached he gets."

She'd taken her hands out of her pockets and wrapped them in front of her. Looking at the driveway beside her, she wondered how much he understood.

"The people who don't like easily are the people you gotta like more. There's something to be said for discerning taste, even if strangely enough it involves me. I'll try not to disappoint the kid, he's had enough of that already."

She looked back at him. With his hands in his pockets, and a slight lean in her direction. He was looking for something too.

"Thank you," she replied, turning away to face the car.

"You know I get attached too."

Her hand stilted on the door handle, she let go, and turned back to Andy.

"You should know, that sometimes it takes him a while to accept kindness… even if it's the one thing he really needs."

"Then he gets kindness, and all the patience I have."

Sharon nodded and smiled at him. She pushed her lips together and took in a deep breath, and just as she was opening her mouth to say something, her phone buzzed.

"Hmm, excuse me a moment," she replied walking to the front of her car.

"Sure," he replied.

He watched how her back straightened, and how she subconsciously neatened her hair. Work was calling.

She cleared her throat and her eyes went wide for a moment. She quickly looked over at Andy, then straight in front of her again. He could hear in her tone the sound of someone questioning orders and arguing a point. But he couldn't make out what she was saying, nor did he think he was supposed to. He saw her hang up and stare at her phone before putting it back in her pocket. She walked back to Andy, and he noticed her smoothing down her hair as she stood in front of him.

"Sharon?"

"In a few minutes you'll get a call. There's been a change of plans. Stroh's been sighted back in town. As a precaution, Taylor wants Rusty out of the state while they work with a decoy and prepare a task force. I'm not letting him out of my sight, so I'm leaving too."

"What? Why can't you stay here? I mean at a safe house, or at the station?"

"I know, I know. I argued that point, but I think since Judge Schaeffer was killed they're worried about another death on government property. And considering Rusty's previous experience working with us, they think a trained decoy would be preferable. I think Taylor must have predicted I'd want to stay with Rusty, because they are sending in a decoy for me too."

"That's ridiculous. I'm supposed to pretend this fake is you as well?"

"Guys, what's going on? The coffee's getting cold," Rusty asked, as he came to join them outside.

"Rusty get in the car please," Sharon asked.

"What?" he replied, walking over to the car.

"Where will you go?" Andy asked quietly.

Sharon met Rusty's eyes and nodded in the direction of the car.

"I hear Hawaii is nice this time of year." she replied.

Andy's phone started to ring and he saw Provenza's name flashing back at him. He hung the phone up and looked back at her.

"Hold on, just wait here. Just two minutes, I promise." he asked her.

Sharon nodded and Andy raced inside. He was as quick as he promised, and he held something behind his back.

"You are going to return Provenza's call, aren't you?" she asked, suddenly realising who he hung up on.

"Yeah, sure." he replied.

"What did you need from the house?"

He placed his hand on the side of her face, and settling his fingers against her hairline, he gently tucked her hair behind her ear. Bringing his other hand about, he revealed a frayed blue baseball cap. Carefully, he fitted it to her head, and straightened the hair underneath.

"You left your hat behind last time you were here," he said, watching her press her lips together.

"Your... hat," she managed to whisper.

As he held the side of her face, he moved closer. Noting the intrusion of the hat, he gently tapped the brim so it rose slightly, just enough so it stayed on her head while he kissed her cheek.

"Stay safe Sharon."

As he moved back she took a breath, nodded and opened the car door. Andy bent slightly and waved to Rusty, while he was still confused just held his hand up. Not quite sure if he was waving it, or if it was just floating mid-air.

He watched her turn the ignition, and his eyes followed her as she drove out of sight.

He knew he had heard his phone buzz, but his eyes stayed on the road.

.

.

.

To be continued.


	9. And Fondness

_The ninth stage…_

_._

_._

_._

Chapter Nine: And Fondness \- _"The One With Hello"_

She felt the flyaway hairs beneath her hat pitch and fall across the base of her neck. They'd annoy her, but she kept expecting them to tuck themselves away. She'd often think of someone else doing it for her.

If she closed her eyes, she could pretend the breeze was his hand, and the subtle shifts in tempo his fingers. But she felt her chest tighten, and her breath hitch over that thought. Someone else wasn't here, and she let it go as the reality of where she was made its self known.

"Sharon. I got you a soda," Rusty said, moving to sit on the towel next to hers.

Sharon quickly opened her eyes, and turned to face her son.

"Rusty, where have you been? You aren't supposed to be out of my sight, and you should have your hat on."

"God Sharon, I was just over there getting us drinks, you could still yell at me from that distance."

"I shouldn't have to yell at you. You need to stay within eye sight, you know the rules." She replied.

"You didn't exactly have your eyes open," he replied, passing her the soda.

"Thank you," grateful for the drink but secretly wishing for tea. "I was distracted, it won't happen again."

"Relax Sharon, like I said I was in earshot, it's fine. You're allowed to daydream."

"Not here I'm not." Sharon stood up, and picked up her towel and bag.

"Where are you going?"

"Rusty, we are going back to the apartment. The secure apartment, where I can perhaps get an update on the situation."

Rusty got up and picked up his towel. He'd only had half an hour away from the apartment and he wasn't exactly keen on going back. Especially considering they'd been told quite clearly that Stroh was still in LA.

"You know there won't be any updates. They may be close, but they aren't there yet. And I don't think you texting Chief Taylor is going to help him or anyone else get the job done."

Sharon turned around a little quicker than Rusty expected, and he stood eye-to-eye with his mother. Her expression slumped, and she tilted her head to the side, looking back at the waves crashing on the shore.

"I'm in paradise Rusty, and all I can think about is how I want to go home. How crazy is that?"

"You're homesick. You're allowed to be homesick Sharon."

She patted Rusty's arm and turned back to the patch of sand she left. Setting up her towel once more, she sat down.

.

* * *

.

"Sharon doesn't walk like that! She hasn't worn her hair _that_ straight in two years, and what's with that accent? I don't get it. What is she English?" Andy asked, pointing out to the woman who would be Sharon, with the kid who would be Rusty.

_The kid at least acted like Rusty_, he thought. _This one though— this Erin whoever she was, didn't work._

Taylor took a deep breath and looked at Andy.

"Slightly English."

"Slightly? How can she be slightly English? She either is, or she isn't."

"She's American, but she's been working undercover for the last ten years outside of London. She slips back into the accent occasionally, so you just need to help her out with that... And she's the only free agent we found on short notice who remotely looks like Sharon."

Andy rolled his eyes. He hated everything about this plan. Mostly he hated that Sharon wasn't here, and he had to answer to this idiot again.

"Captain Raydor is your friend, correct?" Taylor asked from behind Sharon's desk.

Andy straightened his stance, looked back out the window at Erin, and then back to Chief Taylor.

"Yeah, you could say that." He replied.

"Then start acting like a friend, and if you don't think she is acting enough like Sharon, then teach her — nicely."

Andy felt his jaw tighten. He rubbed his chin trying to soften the distaste in his mouth from even having to pretend that _this woman_ was Sharon. Sure, she looked a lot like Sharon. So much so that when he saw her walk into the office for the first time, he had to stop himself from running up to her, asking if she'd changed her mind.

"How long till this is over?" he asked.

Taylor looked over the papers on Sharon's desk. A plan was in place, and the new Sharon and Rusty were the lurers. It was dangerous, but they had to lead Stroh out from wherever he was hiding before he ran off again.

"Three days. That leaves you two to bring Erin, _Sharon_ up to speed. Treat her like Sharon, act as if she has never left, and eventually you won't have to."

Andy looked at the woman who resembled the woman he thought of constantly. _Treat her like Sharon_, he'd said. He wasn't sure if it was possible. His affections, and yes, he admitted that's what they were... were something that he simply couldn't transfer to someone else.

His senses would rebel against the fraud dressed in her clothes and perfume. He wanted the Sharon back who would listen to every monotonous story he told like it was the first time he'd told it; the Sharon who insisted on arranging her wardrobe by colours instead of clothing type; and the Sharon whose hair would tumble across his sleeve when she leaned too close laughing at the TV.

He could no longer delude himself that he felt anything less than adoration for his captain. This quiet need to care for her came without warning or intent, and he could not have imagined a more qualified person to capture his attention.

So now he was left with a figment of her — _patience, kindness_, he thought. If Sharon were here this would be the very least he'd offer her. _Did it have to be Taylor telling him as much?_

"It's 10am, I guess I'll go make her a cup of tea then." Andy replied. He turned and walked out the door.

.

* * *

.

Despite her misgivings, Sharon had managed to have a pleasant day out with Rusty. They went swimming, visited the Waikiki Aquarium, and found themselves thoroughly distracted by the shops along the Waikiki Beach Walk. So when they came back to their home away from home, Rusty was pleasantly surprised to find Sharon sitting and reading instead of reaching for the phone again for another fruitless update. She wasn't completely at ease though, and kept fidgeting as she tried to get comfortable on the couch.

"Rusty, when we go home, do you think we should get a new couch?"

"A new couch? Why?" he asked.

"You fell asleep on it after that movie marathon we watched. Remember how you kept complaining that it hurt your neck."

Rusty sat next to Sharon on the couch. He realised immediately why she was reconsidering their furniture choices. The couch was as hard as a rock. Reaching to the side he grabbed a pillow and tried to make himself more comfortable.

"Ah I don't think that was me," he replied.

"What are you talking about? I clearly remember you going on about how—"

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, I must be mixing you up with someone else." She replied, picking her book up again trying to remember where she was up to.

.

* * *

.

"Why does she keep her spice rack in such a bizarre arrangement?" Erin asked from the kitchen.

"What?" Andy asked, adjusting the pillows on Sharon's couch.

"The spice rack. There's no sense to this thing, I thought she was pretty stringent with maintaining order." Erin replied.

"At work she is. But she also lives with her eighteen year old son who has his own ideas about how things are supposed to be."

Erin closed the cupboard and went back to stocking the fridge with groceries.

"I see, and you, you're here tonight why?"

Andy gave up fixing the couch and hoped that Rusty, or should he say Michael came home on time from Rusty's college so he wouldn't find himself falling asleep on the damn thing again.

"It's Wednesday night, remember? I tend to keep Sharon company while she waits for Rusty to come home from class. You know, like a distraction so she doesn't continually worry about the kid."

Erin moved away from the fridge and pulled her hair back in a high ponytail.

"Does it help? Your efforts to distract her." She asked.

He was staring at her hair for so long that she wasn't sure he'd heard her.

"Does it help? You being here," she repeated.

"She doesn't wear her hair like that. If she pulls it back — and it doesn't happen often, then it's in a loose bun or a ponytail that sits at the base of her neck."

Erin audibly sighed. She'd been on the receiving end of his little corrections all day. She could tell he meant no harm, and the situation was trying him as well, but she had to wonder how close the relationship was between the police lieutenant and his commanding officer. She rubbed the base of her neck and pulled the elastic out of her hair. Shaking it, she brushed it out with her fingers till it sat neatly again.

"Better?"

He nodded and looked distant again.

"To answer your previous question, I'm not sure if I helped, but she needed some kindness, and it was the least I could offer."

.

* * *

.

Despite her best efforts to tire herself out, Sharon could not sleep. It was Wednesday night, the second Wednesday in a row where she hadn't seen Andy. Hell, she hadn't even been able to talk to him since he put that hat on her head, and kissed her goodbye.

_That hat_, she thought. It sat on her bedside table staring back at her, making her think of her friend.

Andy was a thought, a reoccurring one — more so now that she couldn't see him, and wasn't allowed to text him. No, for now she pretended to be someone else, while another took on her role. She thought of the other woman sitting on her couch with Andy, waiting for her son to come home. She realized quite clearly that she'd stumbled quite unintentionally into a state of affection with Andy Flynn.

He wasn't just a thought that played on her mind. There was an expectation to his presence in her life, an assumption that he'd be available. She'd grown so accustomed to his presence, that the absence of it made her confused and irritated. Just when she considered swearing off Taylor's strict instructions not to call anyone but him, her phone began to buzz. Startled, she juggled the phone between her hands before answering.

"Hello," she said. Not allowed to confirm her identity straight away, in case communications were compromised.

"Sharon, how do you feel about coming home?"

The next couple of hours were a blur.

Andy as the first on the scene had been given permission to call Sharon and let her know the news. They'd caught Stroh, or actually 'Rusty' caught Stroh, straight between the eyes with a 8mm semi-automatic.

Michael, who had been playing Rusty for the purposes of the operation, got a sense he was being followed on his way back from college. Taking the initiative he lured Stroh into a corner of the underground car park in Sharon's building, and made his move on him just as he came into sight.

Andy's colourful retelling of Michael's story had Sharon both amused and relieved that her son's decoy had been so quick to respond. She knew that this operation only had one chance. Once Stroh recognised either decoy as not being Sharon or Rusty, the game was well and truly over. As soon as Michael's gun was heard, Andy and Erin had raced down the stairs, only to be met by a team from SOB who had been keeping a watchful eye on him the entire time.

According to Andy, as soon as the coast was clear Erin had run out to Michael and embraced the kid, checking him over to see if he was ok. He had said in a chuffed voice that it was her first authentic moment as Sharon Raydor.

"The first?" She asked.

There was a smile down the phone, or at least the sense of one.

"The only. As soon as she could, she pulled her hair up and changed into the most mismatched pink and lavender outfit I've ever seen. She was patient, and a hell of a sharp shooter, but boy did she struggle with the basics of being you. She said it herself, you're a hard woman to replicate."

"Hmm,"

"She's right you know." Andy replied, seemingly drifting away from his words.

"Andy?"

"Yeah?"

"How comfortable do you feel picking up your boss from the airport?" She asked.

"Do I have to wear a suit?"

"What?"

"The last time you felt uncomfortable asking me somewhere it involved a formal dress code, and if I recall you were a little unsteady on your feet. How are you feet holding up?"

She waited.

"I don't wear heels to the airport. If I'm a little unsteady then I don't have an excuse for it."

"What if I am?"

"Then I suggest you stick to flats too."

His laughter caught hers, and they both stopped and started again thinking of the heels Andy would have to go without. The laughter softened as Sharon caught her breath and sighed audibly.

"Sharon?"

She got distracted and looked through the flight itinerary Taylor had just sent her. Scrolling down she found her arrival time.

"10am Andy. Terminal 2."

"I'll bring the tea." He replied.

She smiled as she heard his affirmation, wishing each other goodnight they hung up. Jointly placing their phones on two separate tables, in two different states. Both hid smiles from themselves as they watched their phones, knowing they'd soon be reunited with the familiar voice on the other end.

.

.

.

**A/N:** _Originally this story was eight chapters, with eight stages of a burgeoning relationship between Sharon and Andy. Then the eight got split in two and became "In Absence" "And Fondness". The ninth was supposed to be the last… And yet._


	10. Terminal Two

_The Conclusion…_

_._

_._

_._

Chapter Ten: Terminal Two \- _"The One That I Added On At The End"_

Sharon's preoccupation with curling the inflight magazine did not go unnoticed by Rusty Beck.

She had flicked through every channel, every magazine, and visited the bathroom three times in the last twenty minutes.

"Sharon are you afraid of flying? You seemed fine on the way over." That is of course, if fine meant staring out the window and barely speaking.

"No, not the flying. Sorry Rusty, it's not what you think. There is nothing to be concerned about. I'm just trying to think something through, and I think I've made it more complicated than it needs to be."

Rusty sat back in his seat and turned his eyes just enough so he could watch her without making it obvious. She was beginning to stare out the window with the same weary expression she had on the way over.

"When we get to the airport there's a shop I want to look at. Can you wait for Lieutenant Flynn by yourself while I go look around?"

Sharon turned her head, puzzled she asked, "A shop? What's so important about this shop?"

"I need something to read — you know, while I wait."

"While you wait, for what?" She asked leaning forward.

"I've barely been by myself for two minutes in the last two weeks, and Flynn is notorious for getting stuck in traffic. I just want my first few moments back in LA to myself. I don't have to be watched now, right?"

"Right," she replied, still confused she took her orange juice, and leant back in her chair. _Not long now_, she thought.

.

* * *

.

He'd helped her collect their luggage and, just as he'd said he would, he left her to sit by herself in Terminal Two waiting for Andy. It was 9:55am. _Maybe he was right, maybe Andy would get stuck in traffic, maybe she should have asked Rusty to get her something to read._ She sat back in her chair, and looked around the airport again, scanning every face. Not seeing Andy or Rusty, she decided to look for that inflight magazine she had packed in her bag.

She swore she had put it in the back pocket, but between Rusty's packet of M&amp;M's, and a travel box of tissues, she couldn't see it. Digging a little deeper she thought she'd gotten a hold of it, and pulling a little too hard, she grabbed the apparently open bag of M&amp;M's along for the ride.

_Damn it_, she uttered to herself. Putting the magazine back on the chair she leaned down on the floor and began collecting the rogue chocolates. They were slippery, or maybe it was the slight shake in her hands that made collecting them all the more difficult.

"Would you like a little interruption?" he asked.

She felt herself freeze up. She thinks she dropped some M&amp;M's again, but she can't be too sure.  
Sharon sensed him move next to her. She heard him place something on the small table beside them, and before she turned, she heard him swear as he lowered himself to the ground beside her.

"Christ, when did the ground get so far away?" He asked, looking at her for the first time in two weeks.

She shook her head, trying and failing not to laugh. _My hands were shaky. Shaky over Andy Flynn?_ she thought. She looked at him once more, and couldn't contain it anymore. Pushing her hand against his chest, she laughed at him.

"Miss me?" He asked.

Her laughter trickled and fell, and as she regained her composure she made herself a promise not to look away.

"Maybe," she replied.

He nodded, and slowly pushed himself off the floor. Once standing he offered her his hand.

"I brought tea."

She smiled and took his hand. He carefully helped her to her feet.

"No Rusty?" He asked, passing her a cup of tea as she took a seat.

"He said something about shopping."

"Ah."

They took sips of their tea at the same time. Looking at each other over their plastic cups.

"I missed you, I thought about you. About us, our friendship." He clarified.

She swallowed her tea and looked straight at him.

"You're a thought I have... maybe when I shouldn't," he added, escaping her gaze by taking another sip.

She put her cup down on the floor next to the abandoned M&amp;M's — some of which had spread further away then she originally thought. Sitting up, she looked back at Andy.

"A thought? How long have I been a thought?" She asked.

Andy put his own cup down and tilted his head forward, somewhat slow to answer.

"You? Oh hmm, I don't know," he scratched the back of his head, still not looking at her, but instead turning towards the crowd."...About 20 years ago, I entertained a thought."

"20 years ago?!" She was thankful she'd put her cup down.

"Well I guess, I mean..."

"You didn't even like me twenty years ago," she replied, still a little stunned, and sort of amused — not that she'd let him know that.

"Then you can imagine how often I think of you now." Replying a little too quickly, smiling despite his own awkward humour.

He noticed her subtle attempts to loosen her shoulders, the way her chin would slightly jut out in order to reestablish some formality between them. He wasn't ready to lose her focus because of his own flippancy.

He took her hand in his. She accepted his hand easily, but her fingers still felt stiff beneath his touch. He looked up at her, but she was looking at their hands. He looked down again and gently massaged his thumb between her knuckles. Moving from one knuckle to the next, her hand began to unwind, stretching limp and lazy under his ministrations.

His eyes didn't leave their hands.

"I thought about you, now and then. Then about a year and a half ago, another thought. Then a year ago — then every other month. Then without warning, every day. I don't know how, but somewhere along the way you became more than a thought. I think you accidentally became part of my life."

"I'm glad your here," she replied.

"I'm happy to be here. It's hard not knowing where you are. I figure as long as I know... As long as you know that I'm here and—"

_"I'll wait, in case you need me,"_

She heard the words he said, she remembered the words he'd spoken.

She let go of his hands. While he stopped, confused, she watched scene upon scene of their dinners and outings play against the backdrop of his anxious gaze. The smiles as Rusty helped her cheat at Putt Putt. The arms that cradled her as she tentatively moved across the dance floor. The hands that helped her put her jacket on. The grateful eyes that lingered a little too long as they thanked her for a roof over his head. And the lips, that had gently touched her cheek, asking her to stay safe.

She decided to return the gesture, and moved a hand against his cheek. His face was still uncertain, and his eyes bore deep into hers as he tried to guess her next move. Her thumb traced across his cheekbone, and she felt the start of a smile under her touch. Closing her eyes she reached forward, and touched his lips with hers.

He was still, and was trying to understand what was happening. He felt his eyes close at some point, and he could sense her against him. Then as realisation took hold, he leaned forward and deepened the kiss. There was a tenderness, and tentativeness in their touch that came naturally. There was no need to rush, no need to push — no need to make feelings known. Time had made their thoughts for one another into actions, each consideration for the other a testament to their feelings. An affection gathered quietly, with kindness and patience.

As she pulled back from Andy, she began to hear the trickling sounds of the airport return to her senses. They opened their eyes and gazed warmly at each other.

Andy went to speak, but Sharon's hand was still on his cheek, and she moved her fingers over to gently touch his mouth.

Moving closer to him she spoke with quiet words, "Thank you for waiting."

As she moved her hand away from his mouth, he took her hand and brought it back to him. Gently kissing the tips of her fingers, she felt her shoulders loosen. Knowing where each other was, they were comfortable in the quiet.

"Guys, what happened to the M&amp;M's?" Rusty asked, appearing with some shopping bags and a soda.

They turned to him simultaneously, quietly shuffling back from each other, and looking from Rusty to the floor.

Rusty looked between them both, and noted both of them had a glaze to their eyes he was only accustomed to seeing on people woken from a deep sleep. He didn't get it, but figured it might have something to do with their age. Sharon, noticing she still hadn't picked up the M&amp;M's, tugged on Andy's sleeve for him to join her before Rusty asked any more questions.

"Hey Flynn, I got you a new hat." He pulled the Dodgers cap from his shopping bag and placed it unceremoniously on the Lieutenant's head.

Andy looked up only seeing the brim of the cap and little else. He pulled it off his head and took a closer look.

"Wow Rusty, thank you. I... uh, I'm not sure what to say," he replied.

"Yeah I gathered. Don't worry, you said it. Oh and Sharon, I got you something too."

Rusty opened the other bag and passed her a magazine.

"Baseball Digest?"

"I figured you might want something to read. And considering Ricky never took those bags of magazines with him, you might as well give up on the idea of getting rid of them and start your own collection."

"They're Andy's magazines,"

"His, yours, what's the difference? So can we go home now?"

Sharon looked from the magazine to Rusty, then back at Andy again.

"Sure kid. Sharon?"

"Right, ok, uh... thanks for the magazine," she said as she tucked it in her bag.

"No worries. As I said you're going to need it. The guy at the bookstore says traffic is terrible, you'll need something to read in the backseat."

"Back what?" She asked, as Andy took the bags from her.

"I called front seat while you were busy kissing Flynn. I guess you were too preoccupied to notice,"

"Oh my god," she said, dropping the bag of M&amp;M's.

Sharon looked at Andy and he looked like a man who wanted to laugh but was terrified of the consequences. She was still trying to process everything, so he quickly grabbed her hand.

Beside them a man with a broom appeared. He gave them a look of concern, then began sweeping up the mess they'd left.

"Oh... Sorry," Rusty said, looking from the cleaner to Sharon.

Andy nodded at Rusty and asked him to lead the way to the exit. Rusty had begun to walk well ahead of them, so she took the opportunity to look at Andy.

He didn't look at her at first. He was too busy smiling about something. She tried looking ahead, but even looking in front of her she could still sense his light, mischievous expression.

She stopped and he turned towards her, not bothering to hide the grin this time. She tilted her head to the side, hinting without asking.

Leaning in he whispered, "You kissed me."

_Oh_, she thought. Dropping her head down, trying to shake the amusement away. When she looked back up he was still grinning, playful and disarming. Taking his hand again she nudged them on to continue after Rusty.

After a few minutes of walking quietly, hand in hand, she turned to him and leaned in close.

"It felt like it was time."

—THE END—

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**A/N:** _I've had a lot of fun sharing this story with all of you, and I hope you've enjoyed the ride. If you are the kind of reader who re-reads fics you may stumble across the incidents where I've self-referenced dialog and actions from previous chapters (including the last line) — I'm a dork like that ;)_

_Thank you all again and again, for reading, reviewing, favouriting and following. It's very encouraging, and always fun to see what people pick up in my stories._

_To season 4, and the continual development of our favourite pairing :)_


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